


Roceits

by Realsies5926 (orphan_account)



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders Angst, Genderfluid Deceit | Janus Sanders, Human Sides (Sanders Sides), M/M, Sympathetic Dark Sides (Sanders Sides)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-11
Updated: 2020-08-18
Packaged: 2021-03-06 04:47:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 10,436
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25843798
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/Realsies5926
Summary: Just one shots when I get bored.
Relationships: Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders/Deceit | Janus Sanders
Kudos: 40





	1. Wrong House Pt. 1

Roman's knees skidded the tiled floor and snapped underneath him as he collapsed. His arms came to cross over his chest, covering the silver and green tie adorned on his chest. His head pounded with fear and self-doubt. It ached. He hunched over the bowl and hacked, though there was nothing to come up. He figures he should've stayed at the feast, at least eaten something if he was going to go through such gruesome discomfort, but no. He wouldn't have made it to the bathroom in time. Then, he would be judged, ridiculed, criticised. He sobbed harder thinking about the grievous failure he was turning out to be. His father would be so disappointed in him. 

Remus was meant to be the Slytherin. He was meant to be the evil one, the one who made all the bad choices, he always was. That reality had been flipped on its head when their predicted houses had been swapped. Roman leaned to the right on the stall wall, closing his eyes and hanging his head back. What was he to do when it came time to see the dorms? He'd have to truly accept he was a failure, that's what. Roman let the tears fall freely down his pale face, collecting at his chin and dripping into his lap. He cuddled himself, rubbing his neck and shoulders roughly in a sore attempt to self-soothe. Nothing seemed to work like it usually did. He swept the sweat on his forehead and neck away with his sleeve and fell forward, hands on knees. 

Before he could truly regain awareness, someone was knocking at the door. He jolted and span his head back, silent. They spoke.   
"Hey, I saw you leaving the great hall... are you okay in there?" His voice was smooth and posh, noble-like. Roman straightened out his tie and fixed his hair back to its perfectly straight natural state. He stood and wiped away the tears, leaning on the stall door for support while his vision regenerated. He opened the door.  
"Of course, why do you ask?"

The stranger was a first year like himself, he recognised him as the one standing behind him in line. His hair was also straight, platinum blonde as opposed to his mousy brown. His face was slim and accented with glossed lips and a natural beauty mark just above them on the right. His eyes were a stunning cobalt blue; Roman found himself enamoured. Suddenly, he wasn't so opposed to being a Slytherin. It was apparent almost immediately that his lie hadn't computed with the pretty stranger, as his arched eyebrows quirked in disbelief.   
"You look ill," he said. His manner was oddly straight forward, which Roman found comforting, even if he was being called out on a lie. He hung his head and ran a hand through his hair. It was still soaked with sweat.   
"You got me. Alright, judge away, I suppose, there's really nothing I can do about it-"  
"Judge you?"

'Oh, Christ, wrong move, Roman,' he scolded himself, Sweat was coming in rivers down his back and over his brow. The stranger stared at him with sympathy, and a little guilt. Roman felt so embarrassed, he could've melted on the spot. He practically was.   
"Oh, uh, well I, no, I suppose not, I just assumed you would," he stuttered out as quickly as possible. He cringed as he heard himself over and over in his head. The stranger sighed and stepped forward.  
"Shall we go outside? You can tell me your name and what's going on there."

Roman had no time to argue before the stranger was hauling him off towards the courtyard. His hands were strong and slim, decorated with a ring in his middle finger. It was a silver band with a single word carved into it, which Roman couldn't make out. He also wore a plethora of leather bracelets, all attached to many rings of string and beads. They looked home-made; Roman appreciated it. They arrived at the courtyard before the bridge and sat together on an ornate stone bench.   
"Now," the stranger half-whispered. "Tell me. What had you so worked up in there?"

Roman averted his eyes in embarrassment. "I don't think you would understand."  
"I might," he retorted cleverly. His tone was gentle and sweet. Roman was well inclined to trust him, yet he was still suspicious. He looked back up at the boy and succumbed to his understanding gaze. If Roman was a sucker, he was a proud one.   
"My father is going to hate me for being sorted into Slytherin," he said plainly, all previous emotion robbed from his voice. His eyes dulled as he stared at the ground, tears threatening to spill again. The boy took his hand and said nothing. They were warm, unlike the air, and easy ti lace between his fingers. 

Roman looked up, deep brown eyes glowing like fondue in the lantern light. The wind swished past them as a gentle breeze, cooling off Roman's neck and giving him a sense of ease. The boy looked back at him and smiled.  
"You don't have to deal with that for another year, put it that way. He's going to find out, probably send a howler or two, but that's it _all year_. Until then... you have me." Roman smiled for the first time that night. he leaned in and kissed his new friend on the cheek.   
"My name's Roman Palace. Yours?"  
"Janus Malfoy. A pleasure."


	2. Wrong House Pt. 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning: Panic attack.
> 
> This chapter is all the angst, all the crying, all the shit. I just hope I got this bullshit right in ink, it's so hard to describe the experience. 
> 
> Also young, innocent Roceit just sends me, it's so wholesome. Fight me on it, except don't, I can't handle it.

Roman clutched Janus' arm tighter with every step they descended. His chest pounded, fear tugging his heartstrings. He buried his temple in Janus' shoulder, as he was taller by half a head, and suppressed his worried choking. Janus noticed his distress within moments and stopped him in the middle of the stairwell. They were alone, but it felt to Roman like the whole world was watching. He took another glance at the bottom of the stairs, seeing the door to the Slytherin common room, and grimaced with force. Janus pushed him against the wall by the shoulders and brought their eyes to meet.  
"We'll go straight to bed, if you want. We can ease in to the socialising aspect," he reassured, eyes warm and a little tired. Roman stared at him for a short while before nodding of his own volition. He took Janus' arm again and headed down the rest of the way.

They reached the door and Roman could already hear the chattering behind it. He felt a wave of nervous nausea sweep over his already weak stomach and whimpered quietly. Janus grabbed him with his free hand and held him steady against his shoulder.   
"I know you aren't ready... just trust me, we'll go straight to the dorms and set you up as quick as possible. Promise."   
Roman nodded again, more hesitantly this time. He leaned back as the door was opened, and Janus had to coax him in by the arm. No wonder he wasn't sorted into Gryffindor. Janus brought him in through the side and, though a few individuals noticed them, went unaccounted for. 

Janus dragged Roman through the small door which lead to their rooms and sat him down on the nearest bed, immediately feeling his pulse in the dim light. Roman crumpled into the touch.  
"Oh, God, let's get you lying down, shall we?" he huffed mournfully. Roman barely took notice as he quickly became more overwhelmed. His stomach twisted and turned, he thought he was going to be sick again. The skin on his hands was much colder than his forehead, he found, as he ran them over his neck and in his hair. He soon yanked off his tie and dropped it to the floor. Janus melted. 

"Roman, I'm so sorry I dragged you in here, I should've taken you straight to the hospital wing. Oh, Christ, what to do, what to do," he rambled, brushing Roman's hair out of his tear-streaked face. Janus' hands were just as cold, but somehow they burnt his skin. They left no mark, but Roman could feel it searing his flesh away with every gentle brush of his elegant fingers. Janus saw the change in his eyes, if subtle, and pulled away immediately.   
"Oh, I should've thought, am I overwhelming you? Please, please answer me, Roman, please." 

Janus sounded a little panicked himself. Tears were welling up in his eyes as well as he scoured the room for Roman's name on the trunks. He found it at the end of the room, two beds down from his own, and hauled Roman over.   
"Just, uh, change, and I'll be outside. Call me back in if you like, when you're done, and we'll go from there?"   
Roman didn't answer, sitting on the black sheets and curling in on himself. His eyes remained half-lidded and streaming with tears. Janus whimpered, strained with guilt and shame. He blamed himself entirely, as it _was_ all his fault. He sat down, well away from Roman, and reached out a hand. 

' _Remember_ ,' he reminded himself, ' _what Virgil said_.'

"May I, uh, am I allowed to touch you?" he asked slowly, softly. Roman's eyes met his, bloodshot and still crying hard, and blinked. He nodded and loosened his crossed arms, allowing Janus one of his hands. Janus rubbed circles into the back of it with both thumbs. His hands were soft, which Roman hand't retained from an hour before, somehow. They were comforting, much like his mother's. Roman shuffled forward and brought their linked fingers to the bridge of his nose. 

His heart rate started to slowly decline, minute by minute of sitting in silence with his hands to his head. Janus resisted pulling away as his arm began to ache, letting Roman keep what little solace he found it it. Roman eventually brought up his head and met Janus' eyes, and when he did Janus beamed. Roman smiled at him, half genuine, and let him flatten him full force into the bed. Roman was taken off guard, rolling them onto their sides. Janus looked so pleased, he didn't have the heart to bring him down.  
"Lord, you must be exhausted after that ordeal, it has to have been at least fifteen minutes. Okay, how about we get our shoes off and get to bed, yes?" 

Roman was already half asleep and had to be jostled awake. Janus huffed in amusement, "Can't fall asleep in our robes, silly, we should change. C'mon, it'll be quick."   
"If you insist," he replied. Janus looked relieved to hear his voice, at which Roman teased mercilessly.   
"Your mask is slipping, Malfoy, I see that grin. You _must_ be tired." Janus blushed and sucked in his lips as he tugged out a nightdress from his trunk. It was black with long sleeves, golden threat weaved into small roses at the hems and neckline. Roman followed suit, though his attire was much more controversial. His PJ set was royal red, also long sleeved, with shorts that came to mid-calf. Janus almost called out his audacity, having to restrain the cruel silver tongue he inherited with iron chains. Instead, he sought merely to compliment them; no harm in that. 

"That's a nice shade of red."  
"Thank you! I admire your choice for roses."  
"Thank you."

The boys smiled at each other as Janus walked over, wiping a dry tear track from Roman's face. Roman allowed his forefinger to glide across his face and settle on his cheek. Though he was smiling, Janus saw the fatigue in his eyes.   
"Let's actually go to sleep now. Oh, and in the morning, we'll have to make sure you eat twice as much," Janus half-whispered. Roman went in for a tight hug, his wrists trapping Janus' long hair. Janus reacted with a kind pat on the back, with which Roman concluded he was back to normal. 

Roman held his arm when he tried to pull away. Janus turned back and cocked his head to the side, eyes wide with curiosity.   
"Will you stay with me? Just tonight, 'cause..." Roman trailed. Janus didn't need the rest of his sentence to get the message. Without a word, he shut off the single lantern in the room and laid on his side with Roman close in tow. 


	3. Wrong House Pt. 3

Roman woke up at the crack of morning on a cold, damp day. It was frosty in the dorm. He turned to his right and saw Janus, sleeping soundly with his arms wrapped around his torso. His face showed peace and warmth, some of which Roman could've used. He shuffled closer and soaked in the radiating heat he gave off. Janus shivered, eyes scrunching. The covers they started under had been kicked off to their ankles.  
'So that's why,' Roman concluded. He reached down, tensing in the cold, and pulled it back up to their necks. Janus' expression softened again, content. Roman smiled and hugged him loosely, closing his eyes again. 

He never got back to sleep. Looking around, the lights were completely off and everyone look miserable, even in their sleep. They wound tight together and balled up under layer upon layer of blankets, but most were freezing cold. There was no heating, no fire, nothing. He and Janus seemed to be the only ones even mildly content because they had each other. Roman felt sympathy for them, as he knew what that felt like. There were only four boys to one dorm, but the discontent rung strong like a thousand angry bells. 

Roman's stomach turned again, empty. He squirmed and fidgeted, ignoring every protest his intestines made with avid spite. Still, he couldn't get it out of his head. Roman took his arms away and hugged his middle, curling up in a ball. The pressure made it better, so long as he maintained that position. 

The rustling Roman created woke Janus suddenly. Roman was huddled in a ball in front of him, eyes squeezed shut and controlling whimpers. Janus tapped his shoulder.  
"Are you okay?" he whispered harshly. Roman shook his head sharply, reaching for his hand again. Janus let him grasp him tight as he failed to suppress a sob. "You're really going through it today, aren't you?" 

"I'm hungry," he squeaked. Janus pulled him up and forced him to his feet. He bent at the waist, left hand massaging his stomach. It felt like it was eating itself. Janus lead him out of the door and towards the common room when he heard voices. Roman heard them too and ducked back behind the wall, letting go of Janus' hand. Janus stayed in sight as the two boys laughing quietly with one another turned around.   
"You're up late," the first one quipped. They were twins, hair red as fire. The other chimed in joyfully, nudging his brother.   
"Indeed he is, George, we never get first years this early in the morning. What's your business, lad?"

Janus paused and glanced back at Roman nervously. He looked like he was ready to cave any moment. Janus took a chance.   
"My friend's a bit ill, I was taking him to the hospital wi-"  
"Oh, how very generous of you. Fred, what do you say we do?"  
"We help, of course, wouldn't want to be rude."

Roman retreated further into the darkness, forcing Janus to take his hand. Roman hid in Janus' shoulder as the second years approached.   
"Shy one, aren't ya?" Roman scowled in offence. Unfortunately, he hadn't the energy to object.   
"Not to worry, boys, we'll take good care a' ya. Make sure Filch doesn't gut you on the way up." Roman cringed, Janus laughed. 

"He's being sarcastic, Roman, don't worry." The twins eyed each other. 

Roman sighed in relief. The older boys and Janus lead Roman up the stairs in a triangle-like formation, each with a hand on his back. They went slow as a unit, feeling every ounce of embarrassment seeping from Roman as they walked through the castle. They were just outside of the dungeon corridor when they saw a tabby cat strut round the corner, spy them sourly and turn back around. Without missing a beat, Fred and George spun the boys round and into the nearest bathroom.   
"Right, Roman in that one, Malfoy- I assume- in the one at the far back and George and I will stay in the stall at the front to take the fall if they come in."  
"Quick thinkers, aren't you both?" Janus deadpanned. George grinned at him quickly before Fred dragged him off into the stall. "Chat later, lads, we've got hiding to do." 

The twins squished together in the first stall and kept an ear up. They heard footsteps pass, grumbling along the way. A mew sounded distantly and the twins relaxed. After another thirty seconds, they exited the stall and rushed towards the back, opening Janus' stall first. He dashed out and looked through a crack in the door to see Roman on the floor, clutching the bottom of his chest. His mouth was open, breathing delayed. Janus frowned deeply, kneeling at his side. He bunched up his ankle length dress and sat on his heels, free hand on Roman's.   
"Just a little further, come now." 

With Janus' aid, Roman stood up. He held on like his life depended on it without saying a word. The other three were beginning to suspect it did. They exited the bathroom and looked either side, clambering along, hopefully corridors behind Filch. The group scampered about the place in several unnecessary directions trying to avoid patrolling professors, namely McGonnagall. She, as Fred phrased it, was to be feared without exception. Unless you were a Gryffindor. The huge doors to the hospital wing soon came into view and Roman practically collapsed. 

"Roman!" Janus yelped, clapping his hands over his mouth the moment the words escaped. Not a moment later they heard quickened footsteps coming their way. The clack of heels was all too familiar.  
"McGonnagall," the twins fret in unison. Janus looked up.   
"You've been doing this so long you memorised the noise her shoes make? Wow." 

Janus was forced to suspend his disbelief when Professor McGonnagall came charging round the corner, anger in her eyes, until she saw Roman on the floor in Janus' arms. The twins got in between them both and bent their knees defensively.   
"Professor, we can explain, just hold on for a moment before you shout at-" George started desperately. She pushed past them, to their ultimate surprise, and stooped to her knees. Roman didn't have the heart to look her in the eye when she grabbed him.  
"W-What is going on here?! Why didn't you just tell a member of staff, boys?" she raised her voice, baffled. Fred and George shrugged and averted their eyes. She looked at Janus. "And what about you, lass? What's your name?"  
"Oh, uh, J-Janus-"  
"Well, Janice, I'm not sure why you didn't think about this further. Come on, let's get him inside, and I'll deal with all three of you later." Janus didn't even try and correct her. 

With Roman lying on his side, facing the wall and hyperventilating, Janus could hardly comprehend the scolding he was receiving. He kept glancing back at Roman and Madam Pomphrey, unfazed by McGonnagall's blatant irritation. She had them at the other end of the hospital wing, lecturing them of the importance of attendance and how things could go wrong should they lose track of a student. He couldn't have cared less when his new, and only, friend was suffering out of his reach. He was too zoned out to realise his botched name was being yelled at him.   
"Janice!" McGonnagall yelled finally, being too loud for the hour for the first time. Janus jolted and stood to attention, shoulders stiff and squared. McGonnagall sighed and rubbed the bridge of her nose. Fred and George glanced at each other, trying not to laugh.  
"Are you even listening?" she scolded rhetorically. Janus lowered his head and shook it. Let's be real, he wasn't as ashamed as he displayed. He simply didn't feel like taking another tangent and delaying his chance to see Roman by another twenty minutes. He looked up with feigned regret in his eyes and cupped his hands before him. 

Fred and George finally gave in, laughing under their breath. McGonnagall glared at them with unrivalled fury, making them shut up immediately. She turned back to Janus and placed a hand on each of his shoulders. He listened.  
"I know you were worried about your friend, but you have to tell someone before you go on adventures with these two idiots. You could've been hurt."  
"I thought Hogwarts was meant to be the safest place in the country?"  
"It is, but there are always exceptions. The precautions we take are what make it safe."

Janus nodded; that actually made a lot of sense. If that's the way things were, why did Fred and George not understand that? They were giggling to themselves still, yet McGonnagall didn't bother with them further. McGonnagall let him go and turned around to walk out, finalising her speech with a single line:  
"The head of Slytherin will be here shortly to pick you up." Fred and George scowled. 

Once she was gone, Madam Pomphrey approached them.   
"He's fine, he just has a nasty case of chronic acid reflux. It looks as though it's been building up for a long time," she explained. "His eating is so disordered his body no longer knows what to do with itself." Janus and the twins nodded and watched her retreat into her office. They approached Roman and all sat in front of him at the wall. 

"Disordered eating, hmm?" Janus started. Roman, half curled up and significantly less distressed, hummed in response.   
"Yes, Madam Pomphrey explained it to me. Couldn't tell you why, but I never liked keeping to a schedule. It felt wrong." 

Fred chimed in eagerly. "Don't be daft, look at what's happening to you because of it. Just eat small throughout the day and it'll even out eventually."  
"Did with our little sister before she got used to it. Don't be ashamed, mate, your feelings aren't your fault," George finished, patting Roman's shoulder. 

Roman looked at Janus for approval. He smiled. 

Roman was just starting to relax when the door slammed open. A tall figure emerged, draped in black with an indifferent scowl permanently in place. Fred and George stared at the floor as Janus began to tremble.   
"Professor Snape," Madam Pomphrey said, emerging from her side office, "I assume your here for the twins?"  
"Indeed, Madam. I'll take them off your hands. As for the girl..." Janus looked up from the side. "We will see."  
Janus leaned back in his chair, shivering in anticipation. He placed his hand on the bed, which Roman gladly took, stiff as a board. Snape gave him one last glare as he closed the doors, the twins in front of him. Other than the single incident with McGonnagall in the hallway, that was the first time he'd seen Fred and George truly scared. What on Earth would their punishment be? The door slammed loudly and Madam Pomphrey made her way back again, giving Janus a sympathetic smile. 

"So," Janus started, leaning into the bed and resting his chin in his arms. "What now?"  
"Now, I think we should take whatever peace we can before Snape comes back and enjoy it." Janus nodded. 


	4. Wrong House Pt. 4

Janus was fast asleep by Roman's side by the time Snape returned for him. Roman was running his hands through his thick, platinum locks. It was so smooth and comforting to touch, he never wanted to stop. He almost yanked out a chunk when the door slammed open, waking Janus up. He looked disheartened and utterly beat, he could barely keep his eyes open. Snape approached them.  
"Follow me," he demanded coldly. Janus, still recovering from the sudden wake-up call, stood without complaint and hugged himself. The hallways were much colder than he remembered them being. Roman followed with his eyes, catching a malcontent stare from Snape as he closed the door. Roman fell asleep quickly without the distractions. 

Janus trotted alongside Snape with a messy posture, shivering. He barely kept a straight stride as Snape escorted him silently back to the dorms. Janus' heels clicked on every marble tile, the noise uneven as he stumbled. His body did not take well to exhaustion.  
"Keep up, Ms. Malfoy, we haven't all morning," Snape demanded, monotonous. Janus jogged slightly and stepped in time with him, stride much longer than usual. He was going too quickly for him.   
"Sir, please slow down," he mumbled nervously. He worried he'd overstep his place with a man like Snape. His heart hammered.   
"We're almost there," he scoffed, continuing round the corner without missing a beat. Janus fully ran to catch up this time, tripping on his skirt and falling to the floor. He picked himself up quickly and brushed off his scraped elbows. 

They arrived back at the common room to see Fred and George sitting at the same desk at which they met. They were scribbling, head to head, on a sheet of parchment each, completely silent. Janus looked up at Snape anxiously. He breathed slowly, doing his best to control it. Snape sneered at them.   
"Sit, Ms Malfoy," he ordered. She did in between the twins at the other end of the desk. Fred looked up and nudged George harshly. They stowed away their parchments quickly and sat up straight. 

"Why did none of you think to wait until breakfast to bring this up?"  
Janus opened his mouth to answer, cut short by George. "He came out of the dorms in pain, we couldn't just leave him-"  
"Yes, you could've."  
"But, Professor McGonnagall said we'd be allowed if-"  
"Only if I said so."  
"Professor, I implore you-"  
"Enough of this. He should've waited, and so should've you. Remember this for future reference... detention, one week, the forbidden forest with Hagrid."

Janus' dropped his jaw in shock, appalled. The twins stayed silent, eyeing one another with a glint of mischief. They made sure Snape could not see their brief glee, before slapping on mock fear. Snape seemed satisfied, or didn't care, and disappeared off around the corner without another word. Janus stood shakily, tears welling in his eyes. He's have to find a way of getting around this unreasonable policy in future, but for then, he was too tired to even conceal his upset. George grabbed his arm and pulled him back down.  
"I'm a bit confused now... are you a gi-"  
"No, I am not a woman, thank you." 

George let go without any further questions. Fred laughed at his brother as Janus stormed off and re-entered the dorms. His roommates were still sound asleep, and it was still cold. Janus wanted to cry, so badly, but his eyes would not allow it. This was the one time he resented his inability to, he needed to. He slumped back into bed silently, taking off his heels with his feet. The covers no longer provided him any comfort, any warmth, as Roman was no longer there. He reminded himself it was for the best, yet he knew he would not sleep again until Roman was back.

Roman woke up miserable. He felt around, finding that he was no longer with Janus. He saw the white walls and long, thin curtains and remembered what happened with a heavy heart. Madam Pomphrey was up and about, checking on things that didn't need checking on to pass the time. Roman sat up and removed the heater on his stomach, feeling for any twinge of burning in his windpipe. Nothing. He smiled, feeling relief from the dreaded hoarseness he'd been suffering for such a long while.   
"Oh, good, you're awake just in time for breakfast. I suggest you get going to the dorms and change into uniform before they leave without you."  
Food. Ugh. The one thing he couldn't deal with in the morning. He usually loved it; the breeze, the birds, the refreshed feeling he always had. This morning, however, he had no opportunity for that. His dorm was in a basement, with water sloshing atop it from the lake. After waking to that, he would have to go and eat with the rest of his year like a normal person, which he wished he could stop pretending to be. He hated breakfast with a passion. 

'Take it slow,' Janus' voice reminded him. Roman took a deep breath and stood up, nodding politely at Madam Pomphrey and making his way out into the halls. There weren't many people about, mainly older years, which earned him odd looks as he scampered to the Slytherin dorms. Some of the older Slytherin students gave him funny looks, while the Gryffindors smiled and pointed. The Ravenclaws ignored him, in their own little worlds, and the Hufflepuffs greeted him kindly. There was a gathering of Hufflepuff girls just round the corner from the Hospital wing, so when they saw little first-year Roman in his PJs they immediately assumed the worst. Of course, they weren't wrong. 

The first to notice him was a brunette with bright hazel eyes. She noticed Roman out of the corner of her eye and gasped dramatically, catching his attention. Her friends turned with her and all melted at the sight of him.   
"Oh, dear, what're you doing in that at this temperature? Why are you coming from the hospital wing?" she asked. Her three friends followed suit, all equally sweet and mild. Roman knew not to stereotype after the night he'd had, but if that wasn't Hufflepuff he didn't know what was. Roman started to stutter, looking at the ground. The first girl cooed.   
"Where are you off to? We'll get you there. You're a first year, aren't you?" Roman met her eye and nodded, eyes wide. 

The four girls gathered around him and walked with him as he tried to remember where the dorm was. The group of girls didn't know where the Slytherin dorms were, naturally, so they just accompanied him along the way. Every so often, the one particularly intelligent blonde would take a hint from a passing Slytherin, subtly asking for directions. They'd point her in a direction and she'd drag the rest along, all of them compliant. Roman was growing attached to this one; her name was Rosa. Another one, with bright blue died hair in a pixie cut, was especially aloof. She looked in her own world and unbothered generally by other people, quite content to daydream into the sunset. Roman was quite sure she was the group lesbian; he liked her, too, but he didn't know her name yet. The girl that saw him first was named Rachel, she was the mum of the band. She was sweet, but stern, and very gentle with Roman, though he was not fragile. Roman suspected she wanted kids of her own. 

Then there was the last. Her hair was silver and gleaming, which was fascinating. She looked like an elf, from one of his old stories. Her eyes were green with a ring of amber in the centre at the pupil. He was enamoured immediately upon seeing her, which she noticed, and ignored playfully. She had a strange charm to her, too; calm, tired, charismatic without an agenda. Roman kept taking glances at her without realising he was. She caught him every time, causing him to blush and look away. Even the intelligent one, Rosa, didn't notice. 

Eventually, the group found the hallway on which the dungeon gates were. They spotted down the hall on the right and stopped; they knew they weren't meant to know where it was, but it didn't bother them. Rachel bent down a little, not being very tall, and smiled, hugging Roman goodbye. Roman smiled widely back, completely in love with their friendly nature. They were all very genuine and open, it wasn't hard to tell. Roman thanked them and totted off, hair bouncing. Rachel cooed as he turned the corner.   
"I freakin' love kids," she sighed. Her friends rolled their eyes collectively and dragged her off. She really hoped she'd see him again.

Janus sat in his school uniform, minus the tie and robe, ringing his hands sadly. The boys in his dorm hadn't bothered to ask what was wrong, and he was grateful. He tugged his trousers, did up and undid his cuffs, straightened his collar. Nothing seemed to work. He was alone in the room, everyone having left to go to breakfast already. He almost gave in and went to join them when Roman came through the door. Janus sprung.   
"You're alright, I assume. You look better," he mused, Roman nodded and pulled out his uniform.   
"Yeah. These really sweet Hufflepuff girls helped me get back here. There's this one girl called Rachel, she was the one..."

Roman rambled on about his half-an-hour-long adventure with this group of girls all the way to the great hall. Janus listened patiently, just glad to have him back and finally seeing his personality. He was enthusiastic and eager, confident, a dreamer. Janus liked that he dreamed, it was sweet. It shouldn't have been a foreign thing to see Roman happy, but that's all he'd seen that far. They reached the great hall and Janus was pulled out of his thoughts. The moment they came into view, Fred and George were calling them over like mad. Janus giggled and went to sit with them, when Roman tugged his arm. 

"There she is, Jay- Rachel!" he yelled, smiling like an idiot. Rachel looked up from a little book and beamed at seeing his face. She beckoned him over. Roman looked to Janus for approval; he shrugged, gesturing vaguely in her direction. Janus joined Fred and George, still watching as Roman sat down with the sixth year and a couple of her friends. He recognised the blue pixie Roman described. He wanted to know her name, like Roman. 


	5. Wrong House Pt. 5

Virgil's anxiety was off the charts. He hugged himself with great reservation, eyes open and weary. He was irritable and defensive with a sneer to rival Snape himself. His nails dug deep in his robes, which he was lucky to have on. Patton grabbed his arm from his left.   
"You're okay," he reassured quietly. Virgil nodded, not truly acknowledging his comfort, and waited for his sister to arrive. 

"Rachel!" he chanted, latching onto her for dear life. Patton frowned and held a hand on his shoulder, rubbing it slowly. Rachel held out her arms and accepted his affection without complaint, rather confusion. She almost mentioned it, but felt it would deter her dear brother away. Rachel allowed it to go on for a little too long, leaving Patton in the background. Patton waited patiently, having let Virgil go after not very long. He stared at the table.   
"Hey, buddy," she sighed. "How was your first night, second year?"  
"Mnh, not great... it was loud."  
"Yeah, Hufflepuffs go hard with the partying, don't they?"  
"Yeah." 

Patton nudged him lightly. "It's over now... we'll have a talk with the prefects today."  
Virgil paled.  
" _I'll_ have a talk with the prefects today."

Virgil's tense shoulders relaxed a little more as Patton offered. He nodded and looked down, embarrassed. There was silence for a moment, until Rachel pulled out a little book of... something, and began reading. It wasn't long until the rest of her friends showed up. Rosa smiled at Virgil wide with an innocent glint in her eye, and he smiled back. He really liked Rosa, she made sense of a lot of things. Daphne came soon after, crossing her legs and whisking her shimmering hair behind her. Virgil envied her, less than content with his dull black locks. Shea came last, sitting with her knees spread comfortably between Daphne and Rosa. They shared a sardonic smirk and continued to wait in silence. 

The doors opened slowly; someone was late. Virgil and Patton glanced at each other and then to the top of the room, seeing two Slytherin boys enter with gleeful looks on their faces. One was a brunette with dark, swirling eyes. Virgil immediately took a liking to them, even if their enthusiasm was a little intense. The other was... Jan? Virgil was surprised to say the least, seeing Janus take such a liking to a boy like that. Virgil smirked, planning to tease him relentlessly for it. They looked around and squinted. The brunette's eyes lit up at the Hufflepuff table, catching Virgil off guard.   
"He's looking at us," Virgil shot out, "why's he looking at us? He looks like he's looking at me." Patton lent him a hand.   
"I don't know, maybe we should wait-"  
"Rachel!"

Rachel looked up with glee in her eyes. The rest of the group also turned upon recognising his voice. She grinned widely and waved her hand, offering him to come sit with them. The brunette looked at Janus for approval; Janus nudged him in their general direction and went to sit with a pair of loud twins standing behind Slytherin table. Rachel rolled her eyes, already used to their antics, and Virgil cringed bashfully. He could never guess what would possess someone to be so loud. The brunette interrupted his thoughts by sitting next him.  
"Roman, this is my brother, Virgil, and his friend Patton," she announced. Patton smiled and reached behind Virgil for a handshake, which he gladly accepted.   
"A pleasure," he chirped. Roman grinned with charm and confidence. Virgil thought it was pretty.   
"Hi," he muttered lowly. Roman offered him a gentler smile and bowed his head, eyes closed. Rachel tapped them both on the shoulder simultaneously, pointing towards the ceiling. Owls swooped overhead, dropping things in front of students as they passed at lightning speed. Roman remembered the night before and all his enjoyment was stunted. 

He waited for the inevitable screeching which would come. He waited for that red letter, locked shut with black wax, with a stopped heart. He eyed each owl looking for that red letter, but never found it. It never came. The last owl flew out of the window and back to the owlery on the other side of the school, leaving Roman with more insecurity than even the night before. Virgil sensed his avid apprehension and jabbed him in the side with a sharp elbow.   
"What's your damage?" he asked, stone faced. Roman didn't detect a sign of malice, despite the dead tone, and dampened his expression. Virgil sat up a little straighter, perplexed and hugely curious. Patton listened closely, eyes wide.   
"I thought I'd be getting mail today... I was wrong." Virgil patted his back.  
"Perfect example of what I was saying earlier, Pat. Don't heighten your expectations."  
"Virgil, not helping." Virgil shrugged with an indifferent smirk and leaned on the table, but mostly on Rachel, who was back to reading. Rosa chimed in, leaning forward to hold Roman's hand. 

"Who from?" she asked. Her gaze was sweet and knowing.  
"My father... I thought I'd hear from him."  
"Something tells me he's a little strict?"  
"...How'd you guess that?"  
"You're sweating bullets, dear."

Roman's eyes trained on his lap as he pulled his hands into them. Patton smiled his way, though Roman could not see it. Soon, breakfast started to appear on the table and he had to leave. He was reluctant, but willing, waving goodbye to his newfound clique. As he was walking, not as worried as before, he glazed over the Gryffindor table with regret. He spied Remus once, saw the letter in his hands and his huge, accomplished smile and bit back a whimper. He was no longer the favourite, it hurt. Roman sat back with Janus and the twins and slumped, not even looking at his empty plate. Janus patted his back, savvy. Fred and George, however, were not as observant.   
"Why you all down in the dumps for, eh?" asked George boisterously. Fred eyed him keenly in waiting for an answer. Roman let his head drop in despair. Janus flicked them both on the nose, to which they responded with an offended 'ow'.

"You aren't going to eat, are you?" he asked solemnly. Roman replied with silence, clenching his fists harder into themselves. Janus left him be for the remainder of breakfast, sitting closer than was likely necessary. Roman appreciated the thought.


	6. Wrong House Pt. 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this is less one shots, more a story, I'm just so engrossed in it I can't help myself. I don't wanna ruin the flow by sticking in a random thing, you know? Enjoy!

Breakfast ended quickly, letting Virgil escape the hold of socialising and run to class. He passed the stone arches to his right as he searched the wall on his left for his class. Following behind without his notice was Logan, in all his tall, shimmery glory. He arrived at the door and waited irritably. This gave Logan the chance to catch up and tap Virgil on the shoulder lightly. He offered a quick, friendly smirk as Virgil turned around. His hair and eyes were a matching shade of black, skin as smooth and tan as dawn. His square-frame glasses sat poignantly on his nose, dignified as the came. He was tall, a good few inches above Virgil, and always wore the same blue nail polish. Virgil hugged himself loosely and smiled back, rubbing the side of his nose with his middle finger. The wall supported his weight as he hid his tainted cheeks. Logan didn't bother him further. 

Professor Quirrel was never late, but always too anxious to get a point across. While Virgil silently empathised with him, Logan found him annoying. He was too jittery and unsure to be presenting in front of a group of impressionable teens, if he were honest with himself. As a result, Logan never listened, not properly, and picked up on the work and content that evening. It was all too easy for him. Virgil, on the other hand, enjoyed his class. He found it interesting and Quirrel was never too abrasive of gave out too much work, like the man trying to pilfer his job. 

Logan found himself reading something unimportant but enjoyable, immersed in the world it had to offer. Virgil was well interested in Quirrel's lecture, leaning into his elbow with his chin perched on it. He was inclining towards Logan slowly, never bothering to notice when he was starting to invade Logan's personal space. He did notice, however, when Logan looked up. He cringed internally and shrunk away, hand in his hair. He went back to the lecture, trying to forget about it, when Logan leaned in and whispered.   
"You look dazed." Virgil looked down, full of embarrassment, and shook his head. His eyes darted between Logan and the desk often as they spoke, their conversation brief. Virgil waited for Logan to say something, but he didn't. They just continued to stare on and off, Logan looking even more uncomfortable than Virgil was at the end point. His eyes were wide and unresponsive. Virgil took the lead, as was rare, and turned away first, Logan was more than relieved. 

Logan was equally as bashful as Virgil. His lame attempt to start a conversation had been in vain and his mind had blanked. His ability to speak was suddenly gone and staring was the only thing he could think to do. Thankfully, Virgil didn't judge him, from what he could detect, and simply looked away for him. Though they had been acquaintances all the year prior, Logan had never really gotten around to talking to Virgil for this exact reason. He regretted it, on the basis that they'd sat next to each other all year and it was clear he intimidated the shy boy, but it was such an innate desire at that point that he had to do something about it. By the end of the lecture and the start of work, he'd promised himself that he would strike some kind of small talk. 

Once their work was assigned, Logan started awkwardly. His hands came up to his chest naturally, elbows tucked in and hands dangling, loosely interconnected by the fingertips.   
"Uh, hey," he said quietly. Virgil turned and looked at him, slightly unnerved by his blank expression but otherwise unaffected and relatively engaged. Logan took this as a huge opportunity, seeing Virgil smile out of courtesy. He shifted in his seat and smiled, eyes unchanging. Virgil quirked an eyebrow and saw Logan do the same. 

"Are you good, buddy?" he asked, elbows on the desk. Virgil was more at ease, which was odd to Logan.   
"Uh, yes," he answered. "Are you?"  
"Uhm, yeah, I guess... not gonna lie, you've got a strong dead-eye."  
"Dead... eye?"  
"Yeah, I can't read you at all."  
"Oh."

Virgil looked back at his ringing hands on the desk. Logan frowned, worrying he'd botched the conversation somehow. He spoke up again, still much quieter than the rest of the class, and bit his thumb.  
"I, uh, I like your hair," he said blandly. Virgil looked back at him with a heavily arched brow, smiling with his mouth closed. He looked so amused, Logan's nervousness disappeared. He didn't realise Virgil's utter confusion. Virgil was sure the conversation was over; apparently not.   
"Thanks," he replied, smiling properly. This was the first time he'd seen Logan's eyes anything but dead. It was endearing and kinda funny as the shape of his eyes never changed but his expression morphed into something so innocent and happy. Virgil joined him in grinning like a moron. Suddenly, Logan wasn't so intimidating. 

"You're a right weirdo, Logan," he giggled. Logan shrugged, both hands on his tie, ringing it. Virgil turned his head back to the front and saw everyone else dutifully getting on with their assignments, if loudly.   
"Oh, god, okay, I should do something," he ranted to himself. Logan shrugged, seeing Virgil occupied, and went back to his book. His interaction with Virgil was sufficient, even pleasant. 

By the end of the lesson, Logan was only a few pages off of finishing his book. Quirrel dismissed them, stuttering in the process, and Logan rolled his eyes nonchalantly. He picked up his book and started walking, only half paying attention to his path, and almost tripped on Virgil. He was still packing away his things, which he nearly dropped. He whooped in surprise and looked up to an embarrassed Logan.   
"Uh- sorry," he muttered. He didn't move until Virgil replied, which took a moment. He clicked his fingers a couple of times while waiting, long nails scraping against each other. Virgil chucked his books in his bag as quickly as possible and stood up, waving a hand for Logan to follow. He did so gladly, still blank faced. His heart was pounding. 

They left the classroom and walked along the same corridor, against the arches this time. Virgil escaped the crowd, which he was much shorter than by majority, by slipping into the courtyard. The fountain gleamed in the sunlight and freezing at the bottom. The air was crisp and dry, causing Virgil to yank up his scarf over his nose. He looked around and was thankful to see Logan standing by the bench, zoned out.   
"Logan?" he asked. Logan's eyes widened and he looked down, red-faced and shivering a little. 

"Do you not have a scarf or something? The school gives them to you freely, if you didn't know." Logan shrugged and shook his head.   
"I don't like how they feel," he replied, unaffected. He did look absolutely freezing, though, and Virgil was sure he'd catch a nasty chill if he stayed outside.   
"Then... what's your next class? I'll walk you there."

Virgil's confidence had skyrocketed. Logan, who he'd feared speaking to for an entire year, was even more awkward than him. It made him wonder exactly what was going on in his head. This made it easier to navigate socialising with him, strangely enough. It meant he had control. Logan smiled.  
"Okay," he said flatly. Virgil figured he didn't mean to be so lacking in expression. Logan turned and scanned his schedule.   
"Charms." Virgil followed him close behind. 


	7. Wrong House Pt. 7

Logan's hands shivered, nerves creeping up on him like a dementor in the dark. Virgil's lingering smile had a strange effect on him, even if it didn't last long. Virgil had walked off with it, disintegrating as he turned away from Logan and continued his day. Virgil's comforting understanding from the last few days was gone with him, leaving Logan to wait until the next wave of odd stares passed him by. They came quickly with every other person, staring at his dangling hands, then his expressionless face. His arms were starting to ache from hugging them to hard to his chest. Nothing new.

Class was boring, just like before. The standardised format of the lesson was highly underwhelming, making Logan wish he were elsewhere. He was done with his book within five minutes and beginning to fall asleep when something exploded in front of him.   
The seat directly in front of him was occupied by a girl with twisty black hair and dark skin. She was holding her pale wand up high, a shocked expression on her face. Everyone else in the class was laughing, as they could actually see her face, but Logan remained silent. Professor Flitwick scoffed and waved them off.  
"Hush now, pay attention to the assignment," he demanded. The class grew quieter, but not by much. Flitwick gave in, sitting back at his desk. Logan suppressed a giggle at his huffiness. After the little incident, Logan was more easily satisfied. He surveyed the other students' technique and, despite having mastered the charm in his free time, never really joined in. He over-viewed his own method a few times before getting bored. Once again, the class was too quiet. 

The moment the signal was given for break, Logan took one. He left as quickly as possible, leaving no room for error, and stalked back to the courtyard. Through the crowd, he pushed, looking for the corridor to the library. He saw the doors quickly and headed for them, vision streamlined. He was hardly looking where he was going, causing him to bump into someone.   
"Whoah!" they gasped loudly, tripping over Logan, and then themselves. They landed on their knees, scraping through the fabric. They looked up, expecting Logan to talk.

He couldn't. He opened his mouth to try and force something out, but his ability to articulate had vanished entirely. The person stood up and brushed themselves off; the crowd around them looked shocked, to be optimistic about it. They scowled, not in an unfriendly fashion, but with mild disappointment and contempt. Their long hair had been knocked out of its plat, coming into their face with the wind.   
"Sorry," they said. Logan continued to stare, growing more apprehensive as time ticked along. 

The crowd disbanded as they walked off, blank expression on their face. Logan felt a lug on his sleeve.   
"You are aware of who that is, right?" he asked. Virgil had returned for him. Logan shook his head, perplexed. "That's Janus Malfoy, Logan."   
Logan hand't the slightest clue who that was. He said nothing, leaving Virgil to drag him along towards the library. At least it was his destination. 

They sat down together in a far corner, books covering the bottom halves of their faces. Virgil's voice was hushed.   
"He's son of high politician, Lucius Malfoy. He's got power in higher places than Dumbledore." Politics, Logan could do. It wasn't hard when his parents were the way they were.   
"I see," he said finally. He was grateful for his voice back. "And I suppose he'll be looking for some kind of punishment for me after... that."  
"I don't know... you can never tell with Malfoy, he's an unpredictable conundrum."  
"I like conundrums, they're stimulating."  
"Not that kind of conundrum, mate."  
"Ah."

Logan leaned back in his chair and glanced at the ceiling, searching his brain. "How do you know this about him?"  
Virgil frowned and leaned back, looking out the window with his peripherals. "We used to be friends."  
Logan saw the obvious fault in his mood and pried no further. He looked at the new book he'd picked up and began reading it again. Virgil was right in assuming the conversation was over this time. 

Janus joined Roman with the twins with skinned knees and a guilty look on his face. Roman cocked his head and placed down the dungeon-master's book, covering half the table with it. Fred and George became disgruntled, but curious. The light in the common room was dim, but harsh, outlining the distressed crease in his brow.   
"Something happened, I assume," Roman deadpanned, dragging him down to sit on the couch. Janus lay down with his knees over Roman's, head on the arm rest. George had already come back with alcohol rubbing and cotton wool when he was settled, and was leaning over his head, peering above his crossed arms. Fred was equally as casual, hung over the back of the sofa and still in his chair. Janus closed his eyes. 

"I ran into some random bloke and tripped. It was humiliating." Roman stifled a laugh, at which he received a strong, venomous glare. He looked back at Janus' knees and let him continue. "I doubt he was anything less than terrified that I barely said anything to him after. I just kinda ran off after it happened and he... watched. He opened his mouth, but nothing came out... I think he's autistic, can't be sure. Not a neurotypical, that's for damn sure."  
Roman nodded, surprised that he understood even half of what Janus was on about. He finished dressing his excessively deep wounds for a fall and placed a hand on his knee, letting Janus know he was welcome to stay should he wish. The twins glanced at each other and nodded like they were in on some inside joke. 

"That, or he was just a Ravenclaw," Fred teased. Roman dropped his jaw, mock-offence painted all over his face. George laughed, earning a quick tap on the forehead from Janus.   
"I'm serious, it wasn't his fault. Poor bastard's probably traumatised from all the eyes on us."  
"Well, I'm not surprised, to be honest. This is you we're talking about."  
"Oh, like you wouldn't make it a huge deal yourself. The only difference is that I don't have to try."  
"Hey!"

Janus chortled along with the group. Only a few days in at Hogwarts and he'd made such close connections. Maybe his father was wrong. He looked forward and noticed the time; two minutes until third.   
"Oh crap, we're gonna be late," he chipped, eyes wild. "Let's get going." Roman and the twins jumped up with him and packed up their came in a timely fashion. Janus stood at the door and waited for them, foot tapping. They joined him at the door an headed through the corridor, fumbling about with their schedules.   
"What have we all got?" Roman asked.   
"Divination," say Janus and Fred at the same time.   
"Dark Arts," George added. Roman shrugged and followed up.   
"I've got charms... if we split class a few moments early, we should find each other by fourth. We'll have a few minutes to chat before we get caught by Snape," he giggled. The rest smiled with him and departed with longing hands jokingly stretched out towards one another. 

Janus and Fred were caught off guard when they rounded the first corner and landed straight in Professor Trelawney's face. She gasped and shot backwards, clutching her papers tighter. Upon seeing them both, she recognised them, and smiled with a friendly hum.   
"You lot again? Maybe I should've guessed," she reminisced. Her tea cup, balanced on the papers, was empty. The residue stuck to the bottom depicted a long snake with a small mouse coiled in its limb. He nodded with wide eyes at it, looking a little more nervous than before. Janus and Fred glanced at each other.   
"Looks like whichever one of you is in my class will be tearing me up this lesson. Oh dear." Roman frowned. It was his class next; Fred was just studying under supervision. His heart dropped at her weary expression. George hit him playfully.  
"Don't worry mate, you'll be there." Roman nodded. When he looked up, she was gone. 

"Hey, maybe that bloke Janus wandered into was a Ravenclaw after all," he joked.   
"That's kinda ablest," Fred pointed out. Roman nodded and bowed his head in shame.   
"Let's just go, we're gonna be late. Also, you're the one that made the joke in the first place."  
"Hush, child." They giggled. 

Trelawney was entirely right in her prediction. The class made fun of her for a solid ten minutes, all during the lecture. They called her a fraud, a moron, a freak, anything easy and without the need for much intellectual processing. Roman sat and watched her troubled expression for too long. Someone scoffed at her when she almost dropped her crystal ball in a panic, trying to preserve her dying reputation.   
"This is BS, why are we being taught this?" he asked sarcastically, cackling along with his friends in the back. Roman was done. 

"I'll have you know now that this morning when I bumped into Professor Trelawney, that she predicted you would chew her out like this. It would be in your best interest to sit down." Roman's tone was authoritative and harsh, passionate. The lads in the back shut their mouths and scowled in every direction other than Roman. He could feel the silent judgement being passed onto him, but he didn't care. He'd done the right thing. Trelawney smiled at him with sad eyes and continued her lesson quietly, less disturbed than before. Seeing her relax, even a little, gave Roman a swell of pride. 

The lesson ended rather quickly after that. The class was let off a few minutes early, as it had gone quite smooth after Roman's comment- or command, if you look closer. Trelawney held Roman back for only a split second to thank him; she still looked weary, but the majority of her stress had dissipated in place of relief and gratitude. Roman brushed his actions off as 'standard' and 'polite' before rushing off to the group's meeting point. The courtyard was cold and freezing over, but it was nice. The air was frosty and tinged blue, the sky was clear and little clouds of air dispersed from his mouth and nose. Roman watched them and pretended he was a dragon to pass the time, blowing these clouds for as long as his lungs would allow. It was quite entertaining, if simple and reliant on the temperature. 

It didn't take long for the others to catch up. Fred looked aggravated.   
"Thought we both had divination?" he scoffed. The annoyance didn't last long, though, as it never did with Fred. George pulled a silly face, looking at him. He returned it.   
"Mature," Janus scoffed. Roman scooched over for Janus to sit down, which he did with great pleasure. He snuggled into Roman, hugging his arm. His pasted yellow coat and black infinity scarf just didn't cut it that day. Roman buried his cheek in Janus' hair, though his head didn't have to move much as Janus was so much taller than him. 

"Aww, young love," George mused. Fred nodded, eyebrows raised. Janus and Roman both rolled their eyes deep into the back of their heads. As silence swept over the group, the student body was moving again. Their hearts sank in grief.   
"See you lot at lunch then," George sighed. Fred nodded and high-fived his twin, less in triumph, more as a ritual. Janus let up from Roman's shoulder and stood, pulling Roman with him.   
"See you at lunch," he said. Roman nodded, stomach twisting. They parted ways with doubt in their eyes. 


	8. Justice for Alex.

So it came to my attention, like, 2 minutes ago that this trans boy named Alex is being abused by his transphobic mother. The video I sought out was censored because he does not deserve the whole world to know his deadname, and I don't want to know it out of respect for him. Please, if you live in America, call the fire department or the FBI because he is suffering under her narcissistic bigotry. The look in his eye while his mother forced him to sit still and take her abuse was too much for me. I know first hand how badly Alex's mother's words can affect a young person, as I experience that level apathy and dejection on a daily basis. Please go support him. I will not have that kind of blatant mistreatment of one of my own. 

I cannot stress enough how this treatment will ruin a child inside. The sadistic pleasure his birthgiver (that vile swine is not his mother) experienced from berating Alex over the internet where everyone could see was so disgusting to watch, it's still making me twitch in discomfort as I write this. I want to stress just how important this issue it to me, because children and young adults should not have to suffer through this. Trans rights are one of the most disregarded things in modern day society, and I want and need that to change. As a result, I would not be surprised if soon, Alex will no longer be with us. Do you have any idea how fucked up that is?

I say this because transphobia factually makes those on the trans spectrum depressed, suicidal and everything else under the sun. Alex will not come out of this okay, so, and I would never do this otherwise and will regret it later, I'm begging you to go support his case and help him out of there as soon as possible. I really, really hope he gets away quick enough that the lasting damage which has already been caused will be easier to deal with and heal from. 

This vile woman has paved the way for giving Alex some serious CPTSD, and I will not have that shit in my community as long as I can do something about it. I repeat, from the first line, that you should not seek out someone's deadname. It's a disrespectful and ignorant thing to do, and should you do it now that you've been informed, feel free to get the fuck back off my page. I will not tolerate this or any kind of abuse from anyone, in any form. This poor boy is dissociating his damn ass off in the video, he doesn't deserve that treatment from anyone. 

Christ, I can't stress this enough, go help him! 


End file.
